


perfume

by fallenstar



Category: Placebo
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-07 20:15:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5469551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallenstar/pseuds/fallenstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Many years after parting ways, Steve reluctantly recalls his former bandmate; the angst, ardor, and ache.</p>
            </blockquote>





	perfume

**Author's Note:**

> found this while organising files; tense is all over the place but thought it was worth posting.
> 
> trigger warnings for violence/abuse and rough sex

He knows this scent, tuberose; carnal and creamy, thick and heavy.

He pushes his face into the pillow and inhales; citrus and musk.

The fragrance is familiar, but it doesn’t smell like her.

She smells warm and clean; she smells of peppermint and sea salt and sometimes honey.  

Steve sucks in more air, he can almost taste it. There is warmth, spices that hit the back of his throat.

He rolls over and catches a whiff from the ashtray on the bedside table.

He winces, recognising the scent at once.

 

 _Brian_.

 

The perfume enfolds him; he recalls his former bandmate applying it to his wrists, neck and navel.

Brian is too thin, his spiked hairstyle accentuating his chiselled features. He wears tailored clothing now, all deep hues and sharp lines.

 

Steve sighs as he remembers the way Brian had looked at him backstage; a toothy grin, glowing eyes.

 

_Is that women’s perfume?_

Brian saunters toward him.

_Do you like it?_

Steve scoffs but he doesn’t look away. He doesn’t give a shit about the cologne, it's Brian alone that bewitches him.

Brian places one hand on Steve’s hip and leans over, his mouth close to his ear.

_You do._

Brian tilts his head just an inch, inviting him; his thumb grazes Steve’s abdomen.

Steve succumbs, pressing his lips to his neck; Brian jerks away, as if stung.

The taste on Steve’s mouth is as bitter as the memory.

 

He slams his head back against the pillow, groaning.

He seethes, burning with loathing and lust.

 

He recalls Brian, smug as ever, his hips swinging as he sauntered away.

Steve takes to the stage reluctantly, glowering as the singer struts out before him.

Brian’s perfume lingers; the velvet scent as lascivious as his motions.

Steve watches on with envy as he fondles his guitar, his mic stand, himself. The singer ignores him, glancing only once in his direction as he grinds his guitar against Stefan’s.

A fleering look; taunting, teasing.

Steve aches with desire, churns with disgust. He imagines each strike against the drum skin as a welt on Brian’s bare skin; each cymbal crash a blow to his simpering face.

 

Backstage, Steve drags Brian into a vacant dressing room, his hand painfully tight around his wrist, though he’d sooner it was his throat.

Brian oozes self-satisfaction; Steve wants to slap the smirk from his face.    

He can’t stand to see that mocking expression; he spins Brian around, shoves him against the wall with a thud.

Steve sinks his teeth into his neck and Brian cries out, arching himself against the drummer.

He drags his mouth up, growling as he grinds himself against the singer.

Brian’s skin is hot and wet, salty on Steve’s tongue.

He pulls at the buttons on Brian’s trousers, impatiently yanking them down. He claps a hand on Brian’s ass; his skin is unbearably soft and smooth against his calloused palm.

Brian gasps and he grasps harder, groaning as he kneads the tender flesh.

~

Steve slams his fist behind him, denting the soft plaster. His hand throbs but the pain doesn’t mask his arousal, an ache he can no longer ignore.

He rubs his open palm over his erection, thinking of the other man’s body hard against his.

He slides his hand beneath his waistband and inches the fabric downward.

Steve jerks himself roughly, his eyes squeezed tightly shut.

He pictures Brian before him, all those years ago.

Ashen skin, adorned with bruises; the trail of damage leading to the tip of his shoulder.

His head is turned just so; Steve watches his lashes flutter and dry lips gasp. Brian whimpers as Steve works him with spit slicked fingers.

Steve unbuttons his trousers with his free hand and Brian passes him a condom. There’s a glint in his eye that says _I told you so_.

He hesitates.

Brian turns, his trademark smirk falters.

Steve watches his mouth, unsure if he wants to kiss him or split his plump lip.

Brian starts to speak but Steve doesn’t let him; he presses his mouth against his; sucking down before biting hard.

Brian kisses him back with the same intensity but Steve pulls away, shoving his shoulder so that the singer is again facing the wall.

He slides on the condom and rubs himself against Brian; he takes him by the hips and presses his mouth again to his neck, biting down as he thrusts forward.

Brian cries out, his howl shattering the silence. Steve doesn’t stop; he pushes in again, harder.

~

Steve tightens his grip on himself, thinking of Brian’s shaky little whimpers.

He remembers the way Brian had thrown his head back, the spikes of his gelled hair pressed against his cheek.

He tightens his grip on the singer’s hips and Brian arches against him, matching Steve’s desperate movements.

Brian pleads between ragged breaths; mumbled words tumble from his swollen lips.

Steve recalls the weighted way he called his name; the desire intoned, the stress on each syllable.

The way Brian begs draws him toward to orgasm; he thrusts faster, his fingernails digging into Brian’s belly.

The pitch of Brian’s pleading rises and Steve knows he’s close. He tells himself he doesn’t even care if Brian gets off.

Steve slams himself inside him again and Brian arches back; his insides tense around Steve’s dick and he groans as he comes.

He drops his hands from Brian’s hips and pulls out roughly, shoving the singer forward.

The air he sucks in is heavily perfumed, so rich and dense it seems to burn his lungs.

He remembers the look on Brian’s face; strangely serene beneath the sheen of sweat. The smug superiority had lifted and left him looking almost vulnerable.

~

Steve reaches for the tissues on the bedside table, trying to force the image of Brian from his mind.

Now that his lust is spent, he is left only with self-disgust.

He closes his eyes and is met with Brian’s burning gaze. As he drifts off he draws in slow breaths; the perfume haunts him, the ethereal image of Brian flickers behind his eyelids.

 

The singer looks almost shy as he leans in for one more kiss.

Steve turns away, moving for the door.

Brian catches his hand but he shakes him off.

_Steve?_

A different kind of desperation in his voice this time.  

Steve dares to glance back and Brian looks hopeful.

All he wants is to take the other man in his arms, hold him, kiss him; to bind himself to Brian.

But he leaves without a word, taking with him only the lingering scent.

 

**Author's Note:**

> i wanted to write a series of mini-fics relating to the senses but this is as far as I got. inspired by something I saw on tumblr about brian wearing women's perfume. 
> 
> btw it's called 'fragile' ha ha haa *weeps*


End file.
